


We'll Keep Each Other Safe

by deadto27



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky hates things that hurt Steve, Fluff, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Recovery, Steve Rogers Feels, pillows, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 01:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadto27/pseuds/deadto27
Summary: Bucky returns, Steve looks after him and Bucky looks after Steve.Someone bookmarked this with just the word SOFT. It is the best summary I could give this.-----When Steve awoke he wasn’t sure where he was at first. Everything was fluffy around him. It took him a moment to open his eyes and focus.He was in his room, in his bed and he was...surrounded by pillows?Steve blinked and looked around. It seemed like every pillow, cushion and soft furnishing in his apartment had been dumped on his bed. Actually, no, not dumped, he realised. They’d been placed all around him, forming a sort of cocoon. He looked round at them all and his eyes found Bucky, sitting on the floor at the side of the bed, knees up to his chest, arms wrapped round them, watching Steve.





	We'll Keep Each Other Safe

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of the pillow part and had to write a fic around it.

Steve wasn’t sure what to do. He stood there in shock, trying to calmly weigh his options. His shield was back in his bedroom. He probably wouldn’t make it there without taking some hits first. Usually that would be fine, but he knew his opponent was more formidable than most. So far though he was just standing there, silently staring at him. Steve wasn’t even sure how he’d got in—Stark Tower was supposed to have the best security measures in existence.

He decided to just try talking.

“Do you know who I am?” Steve asked tentatively. Bucky had pulled him from the river, but Steve couldn’t be sure how much he remembered. He looked a total mess—his hair was unkempt and dirty looking, stringy and hanging in his face, his clothes also dirty and torn in some places. He didn’t have any visible weapons on him, with the obvious exception of his silver arm, glinting in the lights of Steve’s apartment. His arms hung loosely by his sides though and he hadn’t made a single move so far.

Bucky nodded slowly in answer to Steve’s question.

Steve couldn’t help the hope he felt in reaction, but he remained still and calm. “Do you know who you are?” he asked carefully.

Another nod.

“Can…can you tell me in words?” Steve asked. He felt like he was trying not to spook a wild horse, talking slowly and calmly, while Bucky stood there, the only movement being his eyes darting round the room.

Bucky’s eyes returned to him. He looked physically uncomfortable as Steve watched him swallow and then barely open his mouth to form words, his voice hoarse and ridiculously quiet. “Stevie and Bucky.”

Steve felt his mouth drop open. He’d called him Stevie. The only way he’d know to call him that was if he remembered way back when they lived in Brooklyn together, before the war, before the train, before everything horrible that had happened to them.

Steve’s heart lurched. “That’s right.” He kept his voice even. Showing his real emotions at hearing Bucky call him that might not be a good thing at the moment. “Do you know what happened to you?”

Bucky nodded again, staring at Steve now. His eyes were different than the last time Steve had seen them. They weren’t quite Bucky’s eyes, but they weren’t the soldier’s either.

A noise distracted Steve and he looked to see red dripping onto his floor next to Bucky and he realised in horror that it was blood dripping down his hand, from under his jacket. Steve lurched forward immediately.

It was a bad move to make. Bucky backed up instantly, his silver hand coming up to block what he must have thought was an incoming attack.

Steve instantly froze. “No, Bucky...” He raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “I was just…your arm, it’s bleeding.”

Bucky lowered his arm from its defensive stance. He looked down at his other hand, seeming to notice the blood for the first time as it dripped off of him, running down his fingers.

He just stared for a few seconds and Steve wasn’t sure what to do, but Bucky suddenly raised his hand towards Steve, palm up.

Steve was thrown by the trust of that move and the lack of aggression Bucky had shown. He’d gone completely defensive instead of offensive and now was standing there waiting.

“You’ll let me look at it?” Steve asked, seeking confirmation.

Bucky nodded again. It seemed to be his preferred way to communicate at the moment.

Steve approached him slowly this time, until he reached Bucky’s outstretched hand and gently took it in his own. The blood made Steve’s fingers sticky as he tried to inspect it for wounds, turning his hand over carefully. It was as Steve had thought—the blood wasn’t coming from his hand. He let go of Bucky’s hand. He’d stayed completely still the whole time.

“Can you take your jacket off?” Steve asked him.

Bucky shrugged out of the denim jacket he was wearing, before holding it with his metal hand. He had a dark red long-sleeved shirt underneath and Steve could see a large bloodstain on it over Bucky’s forearm.

“I’m going to roll this up, okay?” Steve warned him. The fabric looked stretchy enough that it should be okay, Steve thought.

Bucky just raised his arm forward again, giving Steve silent permission.

Steve rolled up the sleeve carefully to reveal a gash on Bucky’s arm. It didn’t look too deep, but it was fresh. Steve wondered how he’d got it.

“I’m going to clean this up for you,” he told Bucky. “Will you follow me?”

A ghost of a smile flickered over Bucky’s face. It was a tiny movement, but Steve was fascinated. He hadn’t seen Bucky’s smile in over seventy years.

Steve led Bucky through the apartment to the kitchen, Bucky dripping blood as he went. Steve didn’t care about that though, his only focus was on Bucky.

“Do you want to sit?” he offered Bucky, while he found his first aid supplies.

When he turned back around, Bucky had sat on one of the kitchen counter stools and had rested his arm on the white countertop. Steve went to work washing the cut and making sure it was clean, before pressing gauze over it and wrapping it, hoping it would be enough to stem the bleeding. Then he remembered Bucky had the serum, so of course it would heal in no time. He felt relieved at the thought.

He continued cleaning, wiping the blood from Bucky’s fingers. He tried not to focus on how good it felt to have his fingers touching Bucky’s. He still felt overwhelmed by the idea that Bucky was actually here. He’d called him Stevie…

Steve tried to regain his focus on the task at hand. “I’m going to get you a shirt so you can get rid of the bloody one,” he told Bucky, hoping he’d remain as compliant as he’d already been.

Bucky was just looking down at his fingers and didn’t give any sign that he’d heard Steve.

Steve went anyway, heading to his room. He walked quickly and as soon as he was out of earshot he requested Jarvis to lock the external doors and ensure that no one would interrupt him for any reason.

When he returned with a clean shirt, Bucky wasn’t sitting anymore. Steve felt his breath leave him in shock. Bucky was sitting on the floor, bare-chested, trying to wipe away the blood he’d dripped with his own shirt.

“You don’t have to do that, Buck,” Steve said as his heart broke a little and he approached Bucky slowly.

Bucky stopped and looked over at him.

“Will you sit for me again?” Steve requested. He tried hard to not stare at Bucky’s chest, but the muscles he had now were impressive. He looked like Steve.

Bucky stood and sat back on the stool. Steve was starting to understand that for whatever reason, Bucky was following what he asked him to do. He passed Bucky the shirt he was holding. Bucky put it on, seemingly without a second thought.

Steve took the moment to look more closely at him. He looked tired and drawn. Steve guessed he’d probably not slept for longer than a couple of hours a night, at most, in a long time.

“Are you hungry?” Steve realised as he thought about what Bucky might need.

He didn’t get a nod for that, just a blank stare. Steve walked round the kitchen and poured a large glass of water for Bucky and rummaged in the fridge for some food. All he had that he could quickly give Bucky was leftover pizza, but it would have to do. He got to work heating that up in the microwave before realising Bucky hadn’t taken a drink.

“You’re not thirsty?” he questioned Bucky. He didn’t believe that.

Bucky stared at the glass and then up at Steve, his eyes slightly narrowing. Steve instantly understood. “Here, I’ll have some first,” he suggested, lifting the glass and taking a big sip, before placing the glass back down in front of Bucky.

Bucky watched him for a moment, as though waiting to see if there’d be any ill effects, before he lifted the glass and drank until the glass was empty.

Steve refilled it and took a sip again before Bucky drank again, but slower this time. When the pizza was ready, Steve took a bite of that as well, from each of the three slices, before Bucky would eat them. Steve watched him as he ate. He wasn’t wolfing it down like Steve had thought he might, so maybe he hadn’t been as hungry as Steve had thought. He eventually finished it all though. When he was done, he returned to just looking at Steve.

“Why did you come here?” Steve asked him, unable to help himself.

Bucky frowned a little. He shrugged.

“I’m gonna need more than a shrug, Buck.” Steve had been looking for him since the river and now he’d just turned up and it didn’t make sense. “Is anyone after you?”

Bucky shrugged again and then pointed at him.

“Me?” Steve questioned. He supposed that was true, he had been after Bucky, but not in the way he’d meant. “I’m not after you, Buck. I’ve been looking for you so I could help you.”

Bucky nodded.

“You know that?” Steve questioned. He really wished Bucky would use his words, but he didn’t seem to be able right now.

He got another nod and there was a softness there in his eyes.

Steve was pleased that Bucky understood that at least. “I’m going to help you. No one’s going to lay a hand on you ever again,” he said firmly. He would kill anyone who tried, he didn’t care who it was, he felt like his only goal in life now was to protect Bucky at all costs.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he added, his voice a little softer. He gave Bucky a small smile. “First I think you need some sleep. Will you follow me?”

Bucky knitted his eyebrows together in a frown, but got up and followed as Steve headed for his bedroom. He had a guest room, but it wasn’t like he was going to sleep tonight anyway, so Bucky could have his bed.

He thought about trying to get Bucky to shower, but somehow that seemed too much at that moment. Tomorrow he could get him cleaned up. Right now he looked like he just needed sleep.

“Boots off,” he told Bucky.

Bucky did as he was told, but then stood there still again, not seeming to realise that he should get in bed.

“You sleep. I’ll stay awake, make sure you’re safe,” he told Bucky. He also wanted to make sure that Bucky didn’t somehow run off in the night. He couldn’t lose him again and he didn’t know how much of a flight risk he might be.

Bucky didn’t follow Steve’s direction this time. He stood there looking a little apprehensive. “Safe?” he uttered softly.

Steve’s heart tugged as he looked at the expression on Bucky’s face. He probably hadn’t felt safe in more than seventy years. “Yeah, Buck. You’ll be safe here, I promise. No one’s going to get in here and I’m not going to hurt you.”

Bucky stared at him, looking a little uneasy still, but eventually lay down on the bed. He was on top of the covers and Steve wanted to wrap them around him, but he wasn’t sure if Bucky did that on purpose. Maybe he didn’t want to feel smothered by the bedcovers. It was warm enough anyway so Steve left him as he was.

He left and closed the bedroom door behind him, only to have it open a second later and he turned to see Bucky there, not looking just uneasy now, but maybe a little frightened.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked instantly.

Bucky blinked at him. “Stay,” he said quietly.

Steve took a moment to realise what he meant. “Oh, you mean in the room? Of course, if that’s what you want.” He followed Bucky back into the room.

Bucky went to lie down again and this time Steve closed the door behind them both. He went over to the comfy chair in the corner of his room and carried it over to place it in front of the door, thinking maybe that would make Bucky feel safer. Bucky watched him as he sat down.

“I’m gonna be right here, okay? You get some rest,” Steve told him.

Bucky blinked at him and then closed his eyes.

Steve sat and watched him all night, listening to his breathing, unable to believe that his best friend had come home.

 

****

 

Steve woke up and groaned a little. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and sleeping in the chair had caused his back to get all bent out of shape. He stretched, trying to ease the ache in his shoulders and looked over to see Bucky was still there, still sleeping.

Steve watched him for a moment before taking out his phone and sending a text to Sam and Natasha to tell them Bucky was there. They replied quickly, shocked and wondering if Steve wanted them to come over but he refused them. He didn’t want Bucky overwhelmed with people and he seemed completely non-violent and stable at the moment. He told them not to tell anyone else and that he’d keep them updated.

Steve got up and went to his en suite bathroom, shutting the door quietly so he wouldn’t wake Bucky.

A couple of minutes later he heard Bucky calling his name. It was a short, sharp burst of sound and Steve could hear the panic in it. He rushed from the bathroom to find Bucky sitting up in bed, looking around like he wasn’t quite sure where he was, his eyes a little wild looking. As soon as he saw Steve he softened and seemed to relax a little.

“Sorry, Buck, I’m still here,” Steve said, rather obviously. It was still so strange that the man who had spent a good deal of time punching him in the face last time they saw each other was now calling out for him and didn’t seem to want to be without him.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

Bucky just stared back at him.

“Can I check your arm?” he requested.

Bucky lifted his arm straight out. Steve sat on the bed next to him and unwrapped the bandage to find the wound was almost healed already. He ran his fingers over it carefully. “That’s good,” he murmured to himself. He realised he’d probably been touching Bucky a little too long and let go of his arm.

“You should probably take a shower. Then we can get you into some clean clothes?” he offered.

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he shook his head. His eyes betrayed him, Steve could see fear in them. For whatever reason, Bucky did not want to shower.

“No shower huh?” Steve said, keeping his voice light and easy. “Maybe a bath then?”

Bucky shook his head again, his fingers bunching up the sheets around him.

“You’ll feel better if you’re clean,” Steve tried. All he got back was Bucky’s haunted stare.

Steve exhaled. “Okay, how about a wet flannel at least?”

Bucky looked confused now, like he wasn’t sure what that meant. Steve decided to go and get one anyway before Bucky could say no.

In the bathroom he poured water into a small bowl, making sure it wasn’t too hot and soaked a flannel in it, bringing the whole thing back with him, along with a towel. He sat down on the bed, placing the bowl in his lap. Bucky looked at him doubtfully.

“I’m just going to wipe this over your face, okay?” Steve asked, wringing out the flannel a little and then lifting it slowly, giving Bucky time to say no.

He didn’t, he just stayed completely still. Steve carefully ran the flannel over his face, rubbing a little where there were visible spots of dirt, keeping his movements slow.

“That’s good, Buck, you’re doing great,” he murmured as he went. Bucky just watched him placidly.

Steve dropped the flannel back into the bowl and left it on the bedside table before going to his dresser. He pulled out some soft grey sweatpants, underwear, a white t-shirt and a blue zipped hoodie, then returned to give the items to Bucky.

“Here, put these on,” he requested.

Bucky gave him a searching look, but started to pull off the t-shirt he’d slept in.

Steve swallowed. “I’m, uh, going to get you some water,” he told Bucky, moving the chair from in front of the door and hurrying from the room.

He took his time pouring a glass, thinking about what breakfast Bucky might like before returning to the room when he was sure Bucky had changed.

He was standing in the middle of the room holding his old clothes as though unsure of what to do with them.

“Oh, here, I’ll take those,” Steve said, placing the water down and taking them from Bucky’s hands. He placed them on the chair for now. They’d be better off throwing them away, but he didn’t know if Bucky would object to that. They could deal with it later.

Bucky already looked better in the clean, soft clothes. His hair still looked desperately in need of a wash though, but Steve wasn’t sure how to manage that.

He had a thought and asked Bucky to sit on the edge of the bed. Then he retrieved the flannel and ran it over Bucky’s hair. Bucky visibly flinched when Steve started touching his hair but he didn’t move away. Steve rewetted the flannel and ran it carefully over his hair. He knew it wasn’t doing much, but it was better than nothing.

He wondered if he could manage to comb Bucky’s hair, but it seemed unlikely with all the tangles in it and he didn’t want to hurt Bucky. Instead he went to the kitchen for a moment until he found a rubber band, then returned to Bucky.

“I’m just going to tie this up for now, is that okay?” he asked Bucky.

Bucky nodded gently, a slightly wary look on his face.

Steve returned to his place behind him and gently ran his hands through Bucky’s hair, gathering it up carefully. Bucky shuddered. Steve quickly tied his hair, hoping the rubber band wasn’t snagging it too much.

“There, all done.” He moved round to stand in front of Bucky. He looked better like this. Steve reached out and tucked a stray bit of hair behind Bucky’s ear before he could stop himself.

Bucky ever so slightly moved before realising what Steve was doing and then he returned to being still.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Steve asked him.

Bucky just stared back as was now usual.

“How about eggs, I have eggs?”

Bucky still didn’t reply or nod. He looked preoccupied, as though he was thinking about something else.

Steve sighed a little without meaning to. “I’m going to make eggs,” he said firmly before heading to the kitchen.

Bucky didn’t follow him.

Steve got out some cheese, deciding to make omelettes, as it was the only substantial thing he could make Bucky with what was in his fridge. Of course he wasn’t paying enough attention as he grated the cheese and accidentally caught his skin.

“Ow, fuck!” he yelled out, inspecting his finger which was now bleeding.

In a second Bucky was there, a knife in his hand, apparently looking for whatever the danger was.

“It’s okay, Buck, I just cut myself,” Steve told him, a little concerned that Bucky seemed to be carrying a knife on him.

Bucky moved over to him so fast, Steve was surprised at the speed. He peered at Steve’s finger, knife still in his hand as he leaned over him a little.

“Um, do you think you could put the knife away?” he asked Bucky. He really wanted to take it away entirely, but Bucky probably needed it to feel safe right now. They’d work up to it.

Bucky frowned and sheathed the knife before tucking it into his waistband.

“Could you pass me the paper towels?” Steve asked him, pointing over at it.

Bucky blinked and then did as Steve asked, but surprised Steve by ripping off some himself before wrapping it round Steve’s finger. Steve watched him, completely surprised by his behaviour and felt himself getting warm at Bucky’s soft touch.

“Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged, an impassive look on his face. Steve finished making breakfast with no further incidents and they ate together at the counter, Steve again eating first before Bucky would.

“Do you want to help me clear up?” Steve offered. Maybe little normal things would be good for Bucky.

Bucky just stood and followed him as Steve placed the empty cheese wrapper in the bin and then placed the dishes in the sink. His finger had already healed so he started washing dishes.

Bucky lifted the cheese grater in his metal hand and promptly threw it in the trash.

“Oh, no, I can just wash that,” Steve told him, slightly amused.

Bucky looked at him and shook his head firmly.

Steve smiled curiously at him. “Really, the blood’ll come off, it’s not gross.”

Bucky stared at him, an obstinate look on his face, and uttered a single word. “No.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. He guessed he needed a new cheese grater then.

Steve’s phone suddenly went off, seeming to startle Bucky. Steve quickly dried his hands.

“Yes?” he said tersely as he picked up.

“I know this is a bad time but we need you,” Natasha said down the phone.

“Are you kidding?” Steve said, looking over at Bucky.

“Do I usually kid?” she replied.

“I can’t. I can’t just leave him here on his own,” Steve replied, a little more quietly. He looked over at Bucky, who was staring at him with concern, clearly listening.

“We could send someone to sit with him?” Natasha suggested.

Steve balked at the idea. “I don’t think he’d like that.” He sighed. “I’ll be there soon, okay,” he said, realising he really had to. Natasha wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t life or death.

When he hung up, he looked over at Bucky. “I have to go out, hopefully just today, but it could be a few days, I’m not sure.”

Bucky didn’t change his expression, but his eyes looked a little apprehensive. Steve was surprised by how easily he could see what Bucky was thinking at a given moment. He didn’t really need to tell him.

“Will you be okay here? I could have someone come and stay with you?” he offered.

As expected, that got a firm head shake in return.

“You’ll stay though?” Steve asked. “Please don’t leave.”

Bucky took a moment as though considering it, before giving a slight nod.

Steve released the breath he’d been holding. “Okay, good. Okay, umm, food...” he said, thinking out loud. “There’s some things in the cupboards, eat whatever you want and if I’m going to be longer than a day, I’ll call and get some food delivered for you.”

Bucky seemed to balk at the idea.

“I could ask them to knock and leave it outside in the hallway for you to get?” he suggested.

Bucky just stared.

“You’ll be okay here. You can read or watch TV, do whatever you want to, just stay in the apartment, okay?”

Bucky nodded.

Steve’s phone buzzed again and he hurried to get his shield. Bucky stared at it with a strange expression as he saw it.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” he promised, looking at Bucky, his heart aching a little at having to leave him there alone, then he left, feeling Bucky stare after him.

 

****

 

Steve was away for just over two days and he hated himself for it, though Natasha had been right about him being needed.

He paused as he entered the hallway. The food he’d asked to be delivered for Bucky was sitting there outside the door. He opened the door quickly, panicking that maybe Bucky had left, only to see him sitting on the sofa. He seemed to be staring at the TV even though it wasn’t switched on.

“Hey, I’m back,” Steve said as Bucky turned to see him. He looked exactly the same as when Steve had left him, in the same clothes, his hair still tied up.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked as he approached.

Bucky stood and watched Steve, a huge frown coming over his face.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, worried.

Bucky kept frowning and pointed at Steve’s face. Then he pointed at his arm.

Oh, right. Steve had forgotten about the bruises and battle wounds he’d picked up. “I’m fine, it’ll heal,” he told Bucky.

Bucky kept frowning anyway.

“You didn’t bring in the food?” Steve questioned. He looked over at the kitchen. It looked exactly as he left it. He had a sudden realisation. “Bucky, you did eat, didn’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes bore into him as though he was asking something where the answer was obvious and Steve realised it was because there’d been no one there to taste the food first before Bucky. God, he was such an idiot not to think of that.

“God, Bucky, I’m sorry. I’ll make you something now, okay? I promise all the food is fine here. Did you at least drink?”

Bucky’s look told him that no, he didn’t do that either.

“Sleep?” Steve added, feeling more and more distressed that he’d left Bucky that way.

Bucky shook his head.

“God...” Steve breathed out. He hurried to pour Bucky a glass of water, taking a quick sip himself before Bucky downed it. He poured another and did the same. Then he grabbed some chips from the cupboard and ripped them open, grabbing a handful for himself before passing them to Bucky.

“Eat some of those while I make you something more substantial, okay?”

Bucky did as he was told and Steve went back to the door to gather the groceries that had been left outside. He had to throw away the items for the fridge.

He ended up making eggs again because at least that had some protein for Bucky. He’d have to get more food delivered.

They ate in silence. Steve looked round the room for evidence of anything Bucky might have done while he was away, but it was seeming more and more likely that he’d sat and stared at the wall the whole time.

“I think you should get some sleep,” Steve suggested even though it was the middle of the day. He stood and gestured for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky did as Steve wanted and settled down onto the bed but stared at Steve instead of closing his eyes.

Steve knew this time what he wanted. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised, settling into the chair again after he closed the door.

Bucky woke after a few hours. Steve managed not to nod off even though he hadn’t slept in two days either.

Bucky got up from the bed and moved towards Steve. “Sleep,” he said, with a firm look at Steve.

Steve waved his hand. “I’m fine, I don’t—”

“Sleep,” Bucky said again, with complete finality.

Steve sighed and nodded, touched that Bucky seemed to know that he needed to.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Steve requested as he dropped down onto the bed. It didn’t smell that great, having had unwashed Bucky sleeping there but he didn’t care. He was asleep before he knew it.

 

****

 

When Steve awoke he wasn’t sure where he was at first. Everything was fluffy around him. It took him a moment to open his eyes and focus.

He was in his room, in his bed and he was...surrounded by pillows?

Steve blinked and looked around. It seemed like every pillow, cushion and soft furnishing in his apartment had been dumped on his bed. Actually, no, not dumped, he realised. They’d been placed all around him, forming a sort of cocoon. He looked round at them all and his eyes found Bucky, sitting on the floor at the side of the bed, knees up to his chest, arms wrapped round them, watching Steve.

“Uh, Buck, did you do this?” Steve asked stupidly. Oh course he did it, who else would have.

Bucky wasn’t smiling but he somehow looked very pleased with himself.

“Umm, not that I don’t appreciate it, but can I ask why?” Steve said gently.

Bucky shrugged at him, but then pointed at Steve’s face. Steve didn’t know what that meant.

“Can you tell me in words?” Steve requested.

Bucky looked a little uncomfortable now. He looked away from Steve, towards the window. “Safe,” he said quietly.

Steve’s heart jumped. Safe. Bucky had surrounded him with pillows to keep him safe because he had come home injured. Bucky wanted Steve to be safe.

Steve felt a little choked up. “Thanks, Buck,” he said. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Bucky didn’t look back over but he did nod.

“If you’re taking care of me, will you let me take care of you?” Steve started carefully.

Bucky looked over at him, with curious eyes.

“I really think we need to get you to shower,” Steve continued.

Bucky looked visibly nervous at the idea.

“How about if I’m in there with you,” Steve offered before he could help himself or think through what he was offering.

Bucky looked curious again and then shrugged as though he was willing to give it a go.

“Okay, good,” Steve said, getting up from the many pillows, careful not to push any to the floor.

He headed to the bathroom, Bucky following him. He turned on the shower and put his hand under to check the temperature was okay.

He turned and smiled at Bucky. “Okay, you ready?” he asked, but of course he wasn’t, he was still fully clothed and was making no move to change that.

“I promise it’s okay,” he tried to reassure Bucky.

Bucky still didn’t move. Steve sighed. Then he thought maybe this was another time where he had to go first.

“How about I go in with you?” he asked, trying to push away the weird feeling that came with that idea.

Bucky blinked at him.

Steve decided that must mean yes. It was a good thing that he had such a large shower. They would both fit easily at least.

Steve pulled off his t-shirt, trying to ignore how weird this was. “Take off your clothes, okay?” he asked Bucky, trying to say it as a normal request.

Bucky blinked and started to undress as well. Steve turned away and got down to his underwear.

“Umm, maybe we should leave these on,” he suggested but as he turned he realised Bucky had already removed his and was standing there completely naked.

He tried not to stare. He turned away again. “Or not,” he said. He exhaled and removed his underwear as well, not wanting Bucky to feel uncomfortable. He willed himself to remember that this was just him helping his friend. They’d seen each other naked before, back in the war. He tried to forget that this was everything he’d wanted at one time.

He stepped into the shower. After a moment, Bucky took a tentative step towards it.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, gesturing to him to get in.

Bucky finally did and stood there near Steve but avoiding the water quite well.

“Okay, you swap places with me,” Steve said, starting to move from under the spray. He brushed Bucky’s shoulder as he passed. He willed himself again to stay focused on the task at hand.

Bucky took tentative steps until he finally stood under the water. He turned his head to face Steve. He looked surprised.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“Warm,” Bucky replied, his voice actually sounding almost happy.

And then Steve understood. Bucky had probably only had horrific experiences with showers, probably with freezing cold water or being sprayed down. Steve wanted to wrap his arms around Bucky so badly in that moment.

“Here, let me undo your hair,” Steve said, as he noticed the rubber band still there. Bucky stayed still and let him. Steve tried hard not to let it snag and hurt him while he took it out, but Bucky made no noise to say if it hurt.

Steve suddenly felt an overwhelming need to take care of Bucky as he gently stroked his fingers through the ends of Bucky’s hair.

“Can I wash it for you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Bucky didn’t turn from where he was facing the shower, the warm water still running over him, but he nodded.

Steve got the shampoo from the shelf and poured some into his hand, then started working it through Bucky’s hair. Bucky leant back into Steve’s touch. When he’d rinsed out the first lot, Steve did a second shampoo, wanting to make sure his hair got really clean.

Then he found the conditioner that he rarely ever used and started to run that through Bucky’s hair. His hair was still knotted so Steve used his fingers to carefully card through it, untangling the knots as gently as he could.

He was doing okay until Bucky let out a soft moan. The noise went straight to Steve’s dick. He tried to will himself to calm down but everything seemed heightened suddenly.

Bucky let out a choked gasp and moved his head down. Steve stopped and took his hands away. “Sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked.

Bucky shook his head. He put his head under the water to wash out the conditioner.

Steve waited, washing his own hair in the meantime. “Can I just wash this out?” he requested when Bucky seemed done with rinsing.

Bucky nodded and moved past him and Steve suddenly understood the gasp. Bucky was hard. Steve tried to breathe steadily and focus on washing his own hair.

“There’s body wash there too,” he told Bucky.

He turned his head to make sure Bucky had picked the right one to see him pouring some into his hand and smelling it. He started lathering it over his body and Steve turned away again until Bucky poked him in the back with the bottle. Steve turned and took it, switching places with him again, keeping his eyes firmly above Bucky’s face as they passed.

Steve lathered up himself, and couldn’t help dropping his eyes to Bucky’s back and then further down to his ass. Steve felt like some kind of pervert. This should be purely platonic, he was just trying to help Bucky, but now he was standing there staring and suddenly just as hard as Bucky was.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Bucky turned round, and Steve saw his eyes drop to his dick. Steve decided to pretend that nothing was different. Maybe that was a stupid strategy, but if he tried to hide it then maybe Bucky would be ashamed of the fact that he was hard too, and Steve was sure that was just a reflex, and if he said something, well that would just be awkward. So instead he just moved back to the shower spray to wash off the soap.

As soon as he was done, he checked that Bucky was also finished and then turned off the water before grabbing a towel and passing one to Bucky.

When they got back to Steve’s bedroom, Steve pretended like everything was fine.

“Do you want to pick some clothes?” he offered Bucky, pointing to the dresser.

Bucky did as he was told, choosing similar things to the clothes Steve had given him before. He dropped his towel with no shame and Steve quickly turned away and got dressed as well.

“That must feel better,” Steve commented when he turned back round. Bucky looked a hundred times better than before.

Bucky put his hand up to his damp hair.

“I could comb it for you?” Steve offered.

Bucky blinked and sat on the edge of the bed. Steve took that to mean yes. He found his comb and climbed onto the bed behind Bucky, kneeling so he was taller.

He carefully brushed through the strands, holding the hair in one hand so the comb wouldn’t tug too hard. God, this was weird, having Bucky here like this, letting Steve brush his hair. Bucky had never been this soft with him before.

Steve took his time. Bucky seemed happy enough. When he’d finished combing, he couldn’t help himself and he ran his fingers through as well. Bucky moved into his touch. Steve continued for a little while, before pulling himself together and moving to sit next to Bucky.

“All done,” he said with a tight smile.

Bucky turned his head and looked a little sad. Then he surprised Steve by dropping his head down onto Steve’s shoulder.

Steve stiffened in surprise before he relaxed again and then tentatively moved his arm to wrap round Bucky. Bucky settled closer to Steve. Steve eventually brought his hand up to stroke through Bucky’s hair again. They stayed there in silence.

Steve loved the contact. He’d wanted to hold Bucky and never let go the minute he saw him.

It wasn’t long before the moment was ruined.

“Cap, get your ass out here!” Tony’s voice yelled, breaking their peaceful moment.

Bucky flinched and pulled away from Steve.

Of course it was Tony. He’d told Jarvis to not let anyone up and of course Tony had overridden that order.

Steve got to his feet. “It’s just Tony,” he told Bucky, hoping to ease his nervousness, before he headed for the living room.

Tony was standing there in the middle of the room, his eyes widening as he saw Bucky, who Steve realised had followed him in.

“He’s here and you didn’t tell us?” Tony said accusingly.

“I told Nat and Sam,” Steve replied, glancing worriedly at Bucky.

“This is my house, in case you forgot. Don’t you think I deserved a heads up?” Tony said, staring at Bucky. “We need to contain him, we don’t know how much of a threat he is.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. Steve raised an arm in a protective gesture in front of Bucky. “It’s okay. He’s okay. He doesn’t need containment, I’m looking after him.”

“Are you an idiot? I know he was your friend but he’s also a trained assassin. He could kill you in your sleep,” Tony said, stepping forward.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “He won’t.”

Tony stepped forward again and Steve was suddenly stunned because Bucky had moved lightening fast and had placed himself in front of Steve.

Tony looked just as shocked as he paused his movement. “What’s he doing?”

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re just talking,” he said as he realised that to Bucky, Tony’s step forward had looked like the beginning of an attack and that he’d stepped in to protect Steve. Steve’s heart swelled at the idea.

“Can you just go please, Tony? It’s my choice and no offence, but you know nothing about him. I do.”

Tony looked at Bucky and then at Steve and then seemed to give in with a little incredulous huff. “It’s your funeral. But you keep him here, he can’t go outside.”

Steve nodded and Tony shook his head with a look of resignation and then left the apartment without another word, seeming to realise that anything he said wouldn’t make a difference.

As soon as he was gone, Bucky turned to Steve with a look of betrayal on his face. He strode to the door that Tony had just left from and yanked it open. It led to their hallway. He tried to yank open the main door but of course that one was locked by Jarvis as soon as Tony had left.

He pulled on it again before turning and glaring at Steve, who had followed slowly behind him.

“It’s for your protection, Buck,” Steve implored him, trying to get him to understand. “We don’t know who might be looking for you.”

Bucky glared at him. He stared down at his metal hand as though wondering if he could tear the door off, but seemed to decide that he couldn’t.

He stormed back inside, tearing across the room and into Steve’s guest room, slamming the door behind him.

Steve felt his heart sink. They’d been seeming to make some progress and now they’d taken a massive step back. Unthinkingly, he kicked his coffee table, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing shoes and let out a short bark of pain as his foot collided with it.

The guest bedroom door opened and Bucky stormed back over, apparently drawn back by the noise Steve had made.

“I kicked the table, it’s fine,” Steve said, dropping onto the couch and holding his injured toes, feeling foolish.

Bucky eyed his foot and the table and then lifted it with his metal arm and flung the whole table at the nearest wall, where the wood splintered to pieces.

Steve gaped at him, shocked.

Bucky stormed back into the guest room and slammed the door again.

 

****

 

Steve left him alone for a few hours. He wasn’t sure if the table smashing was his way of showing how pissed he was at Steve, but his mood kept Steve away anyway. Steve cleaned up the splintered pieces of his coffee table.

He finally thought he should check on Bucky when it got closer to dinnertime. He’d had more groceries delivered an hour ago and he wanted to get Bucky eating some vegetables.

Steve knocked and then opened the guest room door slowly. “Buck?”

He looked round the room. Bucky wasn’t there. He frowned and checked the adjoining bathroom, but he wasn’t there either. There was nowhere he could have left from. The windows were all bulletproof and even if they hadn’t been, they were all in tact.

The only other door in there was the closet. Steve opened it to find Bucky sitting there in the dark, his back against the wall, his hands wrapped round his knees.

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked softly.

Bucky just stayed still, either ignoring him or having no answer for him.

“Do you want to come out and have some dinner?” Steve offered.

When he got no response, he sighed. “Okay then.” He shoved his way into the closet and sat down on the floor at a forty-five degree angle to Bucky, hunching himself up the way Bucky had. It was massively uncomfortable.

Bucky turned his head from where it was resting on his knees to look at him. He stared at Steve for a moment and then his mouth twitched and a hint of a smile came over his face before he turned away again.

He looked over again after a minute, as though wondering how long Steve would sit there. Then he rolled his eyes and stood up, offering his hand out to Steve to help him up.

Steve looked up at him, smiling softly, and took his hand, letting Bucky help him up. When he was standing, he was up close, face to face with Bucky and he couldn’t help himself. He slowly reached out and pulled Bucky into a hug. He felt Bucky stiffen for a moment before he realised what Steve was doing. He didn’t quite hug back, but he allowed it. Steve felt overwhelmed by the thought that his best friend, his Bucky, his everything, was here and even though he wasn’t the same, maybe with Steve’s help, he could find a new normal.

 

****

 

That night, Steve suggested they sleep in their own beds. He wanted Bucky to not feel like he needed Steve watching over him at night and he needed him to know it was safe there.

Bucky seemed okay with it except he went into Steve’s room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Steve frowned for a moment, watching him. “You want to take this one?” He didn’t mind. It made sense, Bucky was already used to the room, Steve could take the guest room.

Bucky got a strange look on his face, almost like he wanted to ask Steve something, but didn’t know how. Instead, he bundled up a pile of pillows and cushions and held them out to Steve.

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve took the bundle, trying not to smile too much. This odd behaviour of Bucky’s was pretty adorable.

He said goodnight and left Bucky to it, reminding him he was only next door if he needed anything.

It turned out he did. Steve woke a few hours later to the sound of pained noises. It took him a few moments to realise where they were coming from.

He lurched up and headed to Bucky’s room to find him groaning in his sleep.

He reached out and tried to shake Bucky awake gently. “Buck, it’s me, it’s okay, you’re having a bad dream,” Steve told him softly, hoping to wake him gently.

It didn’t work. Bucky’s metal hand shot out and grabbed Steve round the throat before he could do anything. Steve couldn’t breathe. His windpipe was about to be literally crushed.

Luckily at that moment, Bucky’s eyes sprang open and he saw what he was doing and jerked his hand away.

Steve coughed, putting a hand up to his battered throat. Bucky was looking down at his hand, horrified.

“Steve,” he sputtered out.

“It’s okay, I’m alright,” Steve choked out, his voice hoarse.

Bucky sprang up from the bed and ran from the room. Steve followed in panic.

Bucky had gone to the main door through the hallway and Steve watched as he slammed his fist into the door.

“Bucky, I’m okay, really,” Steve told him, wondering how to approach him and wishing his voice wouldn’t croak so much so Bucky would believe him.

Bucky seemed to be shaking his head and punched the door again, and then again, and then started doing it over and over. The metal door started getting a fist-shaped indentation.

Steve forgot to be concerned about himself and moved to stand next to Bucky, putting his hand on his arm as it wound up for the next punch.

Bucky froze and looked over at him.

“Please stop,” Steve begged him, looking at Bucky sadly.

Bucky looked at him and then back at Steve’s hand on his arm and then, as though all the energy had left him, he slumped to the floor. He kept staring at his metal hand, banging the palm against the floor a couple of times.

Steve hated it. He hated seeing Bucky in distress. He dropped to his knees and did the only thing he could think of, which was to wrap his arms around Bucky from where he was sideways on.

Bucky shuddered in his arms. Steve held him, eventually reaching down and placing his hand on top of Bucky’s metal hand gently, before locking his fingers in between Bucky’s.

 

****

 

Bucky didn’t sleep for three days after that. Steve did everything he could to try and convince him but he refused. He was starting to consider getting some kind of sedative for Bucky when he realised something he hadn’t tried.

“If you’re not sleeping then neither am I,” Steve told him as Bucky stood in his room, arms folded, looking defiantly at the bed.

Steve hadn’t slept much the last three days either, but maybe a full strike would work.

Bucky frowned at him.

“I’m serious, Buck. If you don’t need to sleep, then neither do I,” he said, standing and folding his arms in a direct impression of Bucky.

Bucky glared at him. They stood in a silent battle for a few minutes. Bucky finally dropped his arms and marched over to flop onto the bed. Steve smiled to himself, completely overjoyed that he’d won.

Bucky lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with an annoyed look on his face. Steve went and joined him, Bucky twisting his head to look at him in surprise as Steve settled in next to him.

“I figured you might sleep better if I’m in the room,” Steve said, not wanting to be presumptuous, but Bucky seemed to like having him around.

Bucky looked worried, glancing at his arm.

“Don’t worry,” Steve told him. “If I need to wake you, I’ll poke you with a stick this time,” he said with a smirk, looking at the ceiling.

“Punk,” Bucky huffed quietly.

Steve glowed. He turned his head to look at Bucky. “Jerk.”

Bucky reached out with his flesh hand and gave Steve a little push on the shoulder and Steve laughed but felt tears in his eyes at the same time, because Bucky remembered, but more importantly, Bucky was smiling, a real smile, for the first time since he’d returned to Steve.

 

****

 

That night Bucky slept fine. The next night, he had a nightmare again and Steve was woken by his noises again, but this time Bucky woke at almost the same time. He looked around as though trying to remember where he was and Steve’s heart broke for him.

“It’s okay, Buck, you’re safe here,” Steve told him. He wondered how many times he would have to tell Bucky that, before he could feel that he was. All he wanted was for Bucky to feel safe.

Steve reached for Bucky’s hand and squeezed it, thinking the contact might ground him. It seemed to work. Bucky’s breathing started to slow down again and he looked down at Steve’s hand. Steve was surprised when Bucky grasped his hand back. He was even more surprised when Bucky settled back and shut his eyes again, but kept holding Steve’s hand.

 

****

 

The next day, Bucky didn’t wait to eat until Steve had eaten a little.

They slept in the same bed again that night and this time, Steve woke with Bucky snuggled against his chest. He woke every morning like that from then on.

A week later, Steve was reminding Bucky of the time he’d saved his ass from a bully, and Bucky said his first full sentence.

“You had him on the ropes,” he said softly, from his place next to Steve on the sofa.

Steve beamed at him.

Bucky spoke more often after that. Often still just one-word sentences, but more frequently. Steve was ridiculously happy with the progress he was making. They existed in their own bubble, Steve doing everything he could to make Bucky’s life easier, taking care of him any way he could.

“Thank you, Stevie,” Bucky said one day, five weeks later, as they lay in bed together, Bucky with his head on Steve’s chest.

“For what?” Steve asked, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Bucky allowed him to do this whenever he liked now, and it seemed to relax them both.

Bucky shrugged against him. “Oh you know…literally everything.”

Steve couldn’t help himself. He bent his neck forward and planted a kiss on the top of Bucky’s head. “Till the end of the line, remember?”

“I remember,” Bucky murmured. He shifted until he was lying facing Steve, bracing his hand against Steve’s chest, the other holding him up. Steve watched him carefully, feeling unsure.

“I remember,” Bucky said again. “I loved you back then,” he said softly, looking into Steve’s eyes.

Steve felt his heart racing. “You did?” he managed to sputter out, caught by Bucky’s eyes, unable to look away.

“I do now too,” Bucky told him, a slightly hesitant look in his eyes.

Steve’s heart thumped so loud he was sure the whole world could hear it. He bent his head forward slowly, his hand finding its way to the back of Bucky’s head, running through his hair. He leant in and kissed him, finally acting on the desire he’d kept bottled up for years upon years.

Bucky kissed him back, his movements slow and careful, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do. When Steve pulled away for a moment, Bucky looked a little stunned.

“I loved you then too,” Steve told him, his hand moving to caress Bucky’s face. “I loved you when I was in the ice, I loved you when you didn’t remember me, I love you today, and I’ll love you every day after this,” he murmured.

Bucky smiled softly at him, reaching up to tenderly stroke down the side of Steve’s face.

“Till the end of the line is more eloquent,” Steve mused.

Bucky looked at him with a loving smile and Steve kissed him again, as everything in his world clicked into place.

_Till the end of the line._

 


End file.
